


Never A Hug

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/F, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Loss, Memories, Mentioned Clara Oswin Oswald, Mentioned Twelfth Doctor, POV Thirteenth Doctor, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24965146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: I’m one of those people who probably shouted, “give her a hug, already!” throughout Season 11 and especially 12 around half a million times. But then again, maybe there is a reason why 13 doesn’t allow anybody to hug her…Set perhaps after Fugitive of the Judoon, but don’t take my word for it.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	Never A Hug

„Why don’t you let anyone of us close, Doctor?”

“Huh, what?”

The Doctor had been busy with fixing one of the lesser navigation circuits that had a tendency to act up and let the TARDIS land just a few minutes or miles off the original target. Nothing severe, but annoying, anyway. She had totally forgotten that Yaz was next to her, eying what she did with great interest. She often did this. She was a good observant. Had to be, as a cop, probably. Wait, she had asked a question. Maybe she should pay attention. Humans didn’t like when they were ignored.

“You never tell us anything about yourself. Like, where you came from or even, I don’t know, just where you know so much about other planets and time travel from. Or… about adventures you had in the past. It is like… Gosh! I know more about Graham, the bus driver and his family than I know about the woman…” Yaz hesitated, suddenly lost for words, “that flies this ship through time and space,” she completed the sentence after a short moment.

Ah, well. She turned around and her eyes met the beautiful brown eyes of her companion. Brave, determined Yaz. In a blink of an eye she would be nothing more than a memory. She would die, probably get killed while running by her side. That was what the Doctor always had been and always would be: the reason their friends and companions died too early.

“Yaz, I’m just a mad woman in a box, travelling through time and space, always learning, sometimes helping out, that’s all there is to know about me, really.”

She shrugged.

The eyes kept pinning her, nearly nailing her to the console. Yasmin Khan was not one for simple and shady explanations. She should know her better by now.

“Doctor… I can see that there is a heavy burden weighing on your soul, behind the cheery façade.”

What should she tell her? That she would be killed sooner or later? Humans didn’t like to be confronted with their own mortality. And, if she told her, she would have to admit that travelling together with her limited the lifespan of an average human companion from an estimate of 80 years to maybe 1 or 2 years after they started travelling with her. She had a life-shortening effect on human beings that were her friends. Should she tell her this? She felt the urge to snap exactly that in Yaz’ face. She took a deep breath, willing back this urge, forcing her voice to stay calm and controlled.

“I lived for over 2,000 years, Yaz. That’s quite some time, having seen and experienced a lot of bad things. That’s nothing unusual and nothing that should bother you.”

“But… It bothers me, you know. It’s not good to keep it all bottled up inside you,” the lean young woman stepped closer, arms slightly stretched out, “I’m here for you, you know? You are the best person I’ve ever met and if you want to talk or just… you know, feel someone near who understands you… I just want you to know I’m here.”

The Doctor looked into her eyes and her hearts clenched. She wouldn’t make this mistake again. Time and again, she had let them into her hearts. It never ended well. Caught in a parallel universe, brainwashed, transferred to an earlier time period, caught between one heartbeat and the next, shot and converted into a cyberman, the fate of everybody she let into her hearts was terrible and entirely her fault. And it broke her hearts over and over again. Whenever they were halfway mended, they were broken once again.

“There are certain things I can’t allow to happen, Yasmin Khan,” she said gravely.

“Not even a hug?”

She remembered how two arms held her tight even when she insisted that she was not a hugger. How a small, bossy schoolteacher from Blackpool who didn’t take that as her final word had hugged her hearts back together, had invested time and patience into showing her that her wellbeing mattered, and that life was still beautiful. And she remembered how her hearts had been shattered into a billion pieces again, back on Trap Street, leaving her more broken and torn than ever before.

She was not ready to allow this to happen again.

Perhaps never again.

“Especially not a hug, Yaz.”

She said, a somber tone in her voice. She turned around and concentrated again on the broken circuit so Yaz wasn’t able to see the tears in her eyes.


End file.
